


Different Faces

by dead_lilli



Series: Never Ends [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Piece
Genre: Crack, Death, F/M, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, MoD!Harry, Multi, Multiple identities, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dead_lilli/pseuds/dead_lilli
Summary: To cope with having watched the rise and fall of millions of civilizations, Evans, as he likes to be called now, spends his time making the Marauders proud. And if he becomes an important world figure in the process, so be it. It's not like anyone would ever know. Taking on multiple personalities is just part of the fun.
Series: Never Ends [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715590
Comments: 16
Kudos: 240





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to work this idea into my original work but it just didn't work. So now we have this. And it's kinda short but I'll make it a proper thing eventually. This is probably going to be complete crack. Enjoy.

Evans was bored. Being an immortal can do that to you sometimes, but he had never had to be this active in the world while not having a real identity there. Usually, if it was just him minding his own business as he should be, he would be perfectly fine doing mindless menial tasks for years, but it had been a while since his last prank. So, he decided he would make a new identity. 

Every few decades, when he was bored enough, he liked to make a new identity for himself. Usually, he’d make the person a lone wolf who likes to sail around by himself taking the most of small pleasures in life and pursuing a title like world’s greatest at something. He had done it when he was learning to shoot a couple of decades ago. He was considered the World’s Greatest Sharpshooter named Wolfenstein Lupin. He glamoured himself in layers of charms to look like a large burly and quite a hairy man in his late 30s with deep amber eyes and his hair styled to look like wolf ears. All in all, the look added nothing to his want for a loner lifestyle. But it was always fun to pull a prank on the world. The Marauders would’ve been proud. 

This time though, Evans decided he was going to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman. While he was proficient enough in his swordsmanship, he practiced his katas on a regular basis, cycling through all disciplines of fighting he had learned over the years to keep himself in shape, but he had never focused solely on the art in his unending life.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Evans smirked. He knew exactly what he wanted to look like. He quickly changed his eyes to look like a hawk and made his hair a bit spikier. He added about 8 inches to make himself a respectable 6’6’’, curse those stupid relatives of his for his short height. Then he added some classy facial hair and made his jaw a bit stronger. 

Evans nodded to himself in approval of his new look. It was perfect. Now all he needed was a funky outfit. Just believable enough to be a serious swordsman, but just whimsical enough that he wouldn’t take it on as a full-time job. He’d probably just go around occasionally finding swordsmen and beating them when he had time. That sounded like a good idea.


	2. The Arm - Mihawk 1

Evans stared at Shanks. The idiot lost his arm. His favorite sparring partner had lost his fucking arm. 

“I know someone who can fix that.” He said as Mihawk, motioning to the stump on the red head’s shoulder.

“Dahahahaha. Fix it? Na, I bet it on the next generation. Fixing it would be cheating!” Shanks laughed. 

Mihawk closed his eyes, rubbing his temple trying to make the incoming headache go away. “I’m not fighting a one-armed swordsman. At least let him look at it and let him get you a prosthetic so I don’t lose my sparring partner.”

“Come on. I only use one arm when I fight anyway. I’m sure I could still give you a challenge.” Shanks whined. 

Looking unimpressed, Mihawk shook his head. “If I can beat you in one minute, you have to get a prosthetic from this guy for our spars. I won’t make you wear it any other time. I won’t even make you wear it in front of your crew. But I refuse to fight you again after if you don’t. I’ll even stop coming to visit.”

“But Hawky!” Shanks whined. “Don’t do this to me!”

Mihawk glared at him. 

Shanks pouted. “Fine. But if I last more than a minute, you gotta still visit me, and you can never bug me about this again.”

Giving a sharp nod in confirmation, the deal between Mihawk and Shanks was made. 

~Later that day~

“Come to Lilith Island in exactly a week and he’ll be waiting there for you. I won’t be there since I’ll be on Shichibukai business. But I’ll come to visit in three weeks for a proper duel.”

Shanks sighed but nodded in agreement. He lost fair and square. He guessed that he used his other arm much more than ever realized. 

Mihawk jumped off the side of the ship onto his small coffin shaped boat. It was time to create a new identity for himself and he couldn’t be more thrilled. Maybe he’d be an insane mad scientist this time. Crazy hair and all. Smiling to himself, he pushed his small boat away from Shanks’ ship. 

~A week later~

Shanks arrives on Lilith island in a small rowboat. He wasn’t going to let his crew know he had a prosthetic available. He would become an infamous pirate without needing his arm. He was only doing this to settle a bet.

As he approached the shore, he noticed the island was covered in a thick forest but instead of the usual green leaves on the trees and bushes, every plant was a crimson red color, giving the illusion from a distance that the island was on fire. On the shore was what appeared to be an old man with wild grey hair sticking up in all directions. He wore thick, wire-framed glasses and had a crazy look in his icy blue eyes. He was wearing a white lab-coat covered in brownish splotches that looked alarmingly like old blood, and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with black slacks, and black combat boots. 

Shanks started sweating. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet this guy. He looked a little insane, and not in a good way. 

The crazy, old man grinned, waving at the frightened redhead. Cackling, Evans looked at Shanks with glee. He rarely got to pull an identity like this out of the closet. 

“So. You’re the hawk’s friend who lost his arm.” Evans cackled as he grabbed the man’s remaining arm, pulling him along to the small shack he built on the island with his faux medical equipment.

Sweating, Shanks nodded, letting himself be dragged by the crazy scientist. 

“Don’t worry boy! I won’t do anything too harmful. I am trying to give you a workable arm. Not chop off your remaining one!” he laughed again at Shanks’ face turning white. “My name is Dr. Weird. And you, Shanks my boy, will not be using it since you’ll be under anesthesia starting,” Evans paused, grabbing a chloroform soaked cloth from his back pocket and putting it over the man’s mouth, “Now.”

Shanks’ eyes widened with panic as he promptly passed out, leaving his limp body in the care of the mad scientist. 

“Hm. Now how do I want to do this?” Evans muttered to himself as he laid the man on his operating table. Deciding on a rune activated system, he started the mind-numbing task of drawing small runes into the man’s stump of a shoulder with a rune knife making it so the nerves would only connect to the prosthetic when the arm was attached. He sighed as he worked. This would have been so much easier if the man just let him regrow the arm. Evans rolled his eyes as he continued to work. 

~Two weeks later~

Shanks sat on the figurehead of his ship, looking out to sea at the approaching swordsman with cold eyes. 

“Who the fuck did you send me to!” Shanks yelled at the approaching boat. “That guy was crazy! He could’ve killed me!”

Mihawk smirked, remembering the man waking up with the prosthetic attached, shocked at the feeling of having a working arm on that side again. 

“It worked, didn’t it? He’s the best at what he does. As long as the job was successful, who am I to care about his odd methods.”

Shanks groaned. “Fine. Just. This better be worth it. I’ll beat you this time and take your title for this.”

Mihawk outright laughed in the man’s face, a rare sight, leaving the red head’s crew concerned for their captain. 

“There’s an abandoned island close by, come with me and we’ll settle this with blades.”

Shanks nodded, grabbing the cloth satchel his new arm was wrapped in and hopped into the coffin-shaped boat. Turning to his crew, Shanks said. “If I’m not back in a week, send help. We should be done in a few days.”

Benn, being used to his captain and Hawk-Eye’s legendary spars nodded, yelling at the newer crew to get back to work. 

Mihawk smiled as he directed his boat to the nearby island, itching to get a good fight in. Shanks really was one of the few people he enjoyed sparing with. He could go full out and not worry about the man’s well being once again. It felt good. 

~Two days later~

Shanks returned to his ship, a new scar under his ribs and a scowl on his face. Next time he'd beat the Hawk-Eyed bastard for sending him to that crazy doctor. Next time.


	3. Bloody Rose 1

Throughout the Blues, there was a bounty hunter known for both her kindness and her ruthlessness. She wore a deep ruby cloak that covered her dark denim red jeans and black blouse. On her feet were dark red stiletto boots that ended at her knees and on top of her head sat luscious black locks that would gleam red in the light, covered by the hood of her cloak. Her name was Fleur Rose, also known as the Bloody Rose. 

Rose went around capturing those who attacked the innocent and turning them in. Rose was also Evans main source of income.

Groaning to herself she trudged through the streets at midnight to the nearest Marine Office, dragging a heavily bleeding man behind her. She didn’t get her moniker for nothing. She caught the man beating up young children. Why anyone would do that, she had no idea. But since there was a bounty out on his head, and given that he was an awful person, taking her pent-up rage out on the man seemed like a great idea. 

Evans really did love this disguise of his. He always fully personified the person he became when he took on a character. And being able to mother people and put away bad guys with no responsibility. It was awesome. But what Evans thought wasn’t awesome about this beautiful personality. It was the stupid ass boots. What the fuck was he thinking, putting stilettos on a persona who spent their life tracking down villains? It just made no sense. And it made his feet ache. While it’s true that he could always fix it up with a potion when he got home, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have to suffer through it while it happened. Why did girls wear these torture devices anyways?

Rose looked down at the shiny leather covering her feet and sighed. Oh right, they were really cute. 

Kicking open the door to the marine office, she marched in and glared at the half-asleep officer sitting behind the desk scrabbling to make himself look busy. 

“Bounty.” She muttered, throwing the half-alive man on the desk in front of her. 

Looking at the guy, the poor officer almost puked. He could see the guys bones in some places. 

“Ah, yes ma’am. Do you have his bounty poster?” the young marine asked, sweating. 

Rose threw the poster at him. 

Unrolling the poster, the young marine gasped. This guy was worth 30.000.000. It was unheard of in the East Blue. Even here in Loguetown, it was rare for them to get anyone above 15.000.000. Just where did this guy come from?

“Ah, sorry. I have to go get permission from the Captain at this base to pay out a bounty this high.” The marine squeaked. 

Waving him off Rose sighed, pushing her capture off the bench and hoisting herself on top of it instead. Her feet hurt. Couldn’t this guy just hurry up? It wasn’t even a high enough bounty for her to care that much. She knew she should’ve just suffered the longer trip to the 455th base in Paradise. But she just couldn’t be bothered trying to navigate the grand line while making sure her capture didn’t fall overboard. She had been close enough to the calm belt that it was easier to just jump to the East Blue. Laziness would kill her one day. Or maybe not. Immortality and all that. 

The smell of smoke reached her nose long before the person did. The new captain of this base obviously liked to smoke. 

Looking suspiciously at the blood coated bench she had perched herself on, he asked. “Where’s the criminal?”

Jumping down, she hauled the half-alive body back onto the bench. “You may want to get him medical attention if you want him to live through the night.”

The captain sighed. “Thank you for your services Ms. Bloody Rose, but next time could you be more kind to your captures. According to rumours of your skill, this criminal shouldn’t have needed such brute force and next time we’ll have to deduct money from the bounty.”

Rose huffed, eyeing the marine who had fainted in the background at the mention of her name. “He hurt children.”

Smokers glare lightened as he exhaled smoke from his lungs. Picking up a Den Den Mushi from the desk, he called for some lower-ranking marines to drag the still bleeding man to sickbay. 

The Marines came rushing in and proceeded to move the criminal to a gurney and take him out of the room. 

“So, my reward?” Rose asked, finally taking a proper look at the gruff man standing in front of her. He was tall and well-muscled. Two cigars hanging out of his mouth. He gave off a slight rebel vibe and if Rose was being honest with herself, was completely her type. Maybe she’d stick in this area for a bit longer and clean up around here. 

The man grunted walking over to an inconspicuous door off the side of the room and motioning her to follow. 

Rose grinned. This was new. Maybe waiting in these boots wasn’t too bad of an idea. 

“So, smokestack, you never told me your name.”

“Tch. The name’s Smoker.” He growled. 

Rose smirked trying not to laugh. “Really? And let me guess. You have the smoke devil fruit?”

Smoker was quiet. 

She couldn’t help herself. Rose burst out laughing. “Seriously! Smoker. With the Smoke. Hah! That’s brilliant.” She fell to the ground, holding her stomach. That was possibly the best thing she had heard in ages. Even in all her disguises, she was never that on the nose about it. It was great. 

Smoker stopped to turn around and stare at the young woman laughing to the point of tear, rolling on the ground. “It’s not that funny.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes she sat up. “It really is.”

A light blush came over Smokers face as he offered her a hand. “Just get up, it’s the middle of the night and I’d like to get back to bed.”

Smirking, she took his hand, letting him help her up. “Maybe I should join you.”

The marine officers face turned red and he turned away, marching down the hall, leaving her to run after him to catch up. 

“Aw, come on! I was joking. No need to take it personally.” She said. 

The burly man grunted but slowed his pace slightly. 

“So, where’s my money?” she asked falling into a comfortable pace, just one step behind him. 

“Since you brought such a high bounty, I have to go to the vault to get it and I don’t trust you not to mess with my marines while I’m gone so you’re coming with.” Smoker replied. 

“Mess with them? Me? Never.” She said coyly. 

Smoker grunted. “Exactly.” 

She giggled at the man as he turned a corner and finally entered a room with a vault. 

“Ah, such a beautiful vault. I wonder if I could steal its contents.” She said, trying to rile the marine up. 

Smoker glared. “You shouldn’t unless you want to become pirate scum.”

Rose laughed as he motioned for her to turn around so he could open the vault. “I wouldn’t. Given that you know so much about my reputation, you should know I only go after ones who deserve it. Sadly, you don’t meet the criteria, big guy.”

“So, you believe in Justice?” Smoker asked. 

Rose nodded. 

“Then why become a bounty hunter? Why not join the marines?” he asked curiously. 

“Cause then I’d be answering to the World Government who really just answers to the Celestial Dragons. And if you can say that you believe anything they do is ethical and just, then you’re a different person than I thought.”

Smoker sighed, knowing she was right, but also knowing that as a marine he wasn’t allowed to speak against them. While he was proud to be a marine, he couldn’t say that he was proud to be associated with the Celestial Dragons in any way. 

“Then you understand why I cannot be a marine. At least as a bounty hunter, I’m able to avoid doing their bidding while bringing in the bad guys of the world.” Rose said turning around as she heard the vault door close. 

Smoker threw her the bag of money. “30.000.000.”

Rose nodded caching the large bag. “I appreciate that you’re one of the good marines. Sadly, I cannot say the same for all the bases in the East Blue. You may want to get headquarters to look into doing a surprise inspection on some of those bases. There is only so much I can do while keeping my position of a bounty hunter. Interfering in marine business is not one of them.”

Smoker gave a solemn nod. “Thank you for that intel Ms. Bloody Rose.”

“You’re welcome. And just call me Rose. We’ll meet again.” Rose replied as she opened a window gave a quick wave and then leapt out, disappearing into the night. 

Once she was back on her boat, she sighed. She could finally take off those god damn heels. She sighed, moving into the small cabin underneath her boat to go rest. Sitting on her bed rubbing her feet she sighed letting the glamour drop, becoming Evans once again. 

Evans hummed pulling out a vial of pain reliever for his feet. Sighing as the potion worked its magic, he pondered. Who should he be tomorrow? Was there anyone in particular that he wanted to bother. Maybe someone who he could let off a little steam with. That Smoker fella left him with some unrelieved tension and while he would change that in the future, he wanted some quick gratification in the meantime. Hmmm.


	4. Protégé - Mihawk 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this is straight from the Funimation sub, but the internal commentary is written by me. So this might be a bit of a boring read. I can't tell. I think everything I've written is boring read cause I know what's happening. Oops.

Evans growled. Some stupid brigade from the East Blue just had to wake him up. It was nice and calm and sunny. On the Grand Line. That’s a rarity. He enjoyed his naps on his coffin-shaped boat. And in those rare moments, all he can ask for is undisturbed sleep. Is that too much?

His eyes gleamed through the mist that seemed to be following his ship. He could still sense the galleon and its passengers rushing ahead. Or what was left of them. While he didn’t care about killing for sport, it was a blow to his pride to let such small fish get away. 

So, he followed the pirates who had turned tail and were running back home. At a slow pace. Maybe he could have a proper nap while in the East Blue. That sounded nice. 

A few hours into following the ship, the galleon came across the Baratie. If he remembered correctly, it was run by ex-pirate Red Leg Zeff. Evans had met him as Mihawk only once, but Dillon Jordae another one of his identities from 20 years ago, knew him quite well. He was a great fighter and an even better chef. If he wasn’t here on business, he may have even popped in for food. Too bad he had some small fish to fry. 

Drawing Yoru, he pointed it at the galleon in front of the Baratie. That will do, he thought as he aimed for the middle of the ship. Raising his sword, he cleanly slashed the air, sending a flying slash directly through the middle of the galleon, slicing it in half. 

Panicked murmurs filled the air around him as he re-sheathed Yoru. Looking forward, he sat back down and looked straight ahead, ignoring everyone around him. Minus Zeff, no one here was even close to being able to harm him. 

Looking forward, he let his hat fall to cover his eyes and smirked to hide his laughter as he approached the Baratie. It seemed that Zeff’s chef hat just kept increasing with his age. Maybe he’d dust-off old Jordae just so he could laugh in the man’s face. Yes. That seemed like a good plan. 

A pest from the stupid galleon he chased started to buzz in his ear. Something about why he came here. 

“You annoyed me. I’m just killing time.” He replied, keeping his stereotypical Mihawk resting bitch face on. 

The gnat continued to buzz, raising his guns. Quickly pulling out Yoru, he redirected the bullets. 

The pirates shouted in disbelief, questioning how he could do that. Then a kid with green hair stepped in and explained the obvious. The gnats started buzzing again about him being famous in the East Blue. A competitor perchance? Maybe he should start listening properly again. 

“I’ve never seen a sword move so gracefully.” The green-haired swordsman directed towards him. 

Deciding to respond with advice, he replied. “There is no strength in swordplay based only on force.”

“Did you use that sword to slice up the ship as well?” 

“Yes.” He responded. This kid was going to challenge him. His trip to the East Blue just got mildly interesting. He’ll see how long his latest challenger would keep his attention. 

“I came out to sea to meet you.”

“What’s your goal?” he asked, already knowing the answer. People didn’t seek him out for no reason. 

“To become the strongest!” The green-haired teen got a gleam in his eyes. The same crazy gleam anyone with a dream did when faced with a wall.

“Hmph… How foolish.” 

“You’ve got spare time. Let’s fight!” the teen challenged him. 

Deciding to test the teen’s resolve, he spoke. “Fight? How pitiful, weak one… If you are a competent enough swordsman, then you should be able to see the disparity in our abilities even before we cross swords. Is it your courage or ignorance that causes you to turn your sword on me?”

Smiling manically, the teen responds. “It’s my ambition. And because of a promise I made to a dear friend.”

That statement got Mihawk thinking. He respected those who kept promises. And if what he said was true, the swordsman in front of him would take any chance he got to make it to the top, and happily die trying. This just got even more interesting. Could he have finally found a swordsman world mentoring? He usually chose one in these sorts of identities, but he had started to lose hope in the opponents he’d faced until now. 

Pulling Kogatana from his neck, Mihawk uncapped the small blade. He could easily block anything the kid dealt using Kogatana with ease.

“Oi! What the hell is that?” The green-head yelled at Mihawk.

“I’m no beast that goes all out when hunting a rabbit. Even if you’re a swordsman who’s earned a bit of a name for himself, the East Blue is the weakest among the four seas. Unfortunately, I don’t carry any smaller sharp instruments with me.” He explained. 

“That’s enough making fun of me!” his opponent growled out through the blade in his mouth. “Better not regret it when I kill you!”

Mihawk sighed. He wasn’t making fun of the kid. Big dreamers with the determination to pull it off, they’re hard to come by. It’s the reason Evans likes taking up these positions. He likes to know the next generation is in good hands before he passes the metaphorical torch. Well, that and the ability to troll the newest generation with a new identity. 

Tilting his head so his hat shaded his eyes, Mihawk spoke. “Frog in the well… Know how big the world is.”

Thrusting the small knife in front of him, Mihawk stopped his challengers attack in its weak point, less than a meter in front of him. The kid should try to avoid yelling out his attacks. And his movement was just too obvious. But… 

The kid looked shocked at his predicament. His swords had been stopped with a measly knife. Then again. Any swordsman worth their grain of salt should know that it was not the size of a blade that determined a fight, but instead the skill on the one who wielded it. Maybe he wasn’t one to keep an eye on. How disappointing. 

Giving up on using major attack, the young swordsman started to flail his swords around with all his strength. By doing that, the kid gave up any manoeuvrability that he had. He’d need to work on being quicker on his feet and handling his blades with more grace. While it was obvious, he had been trained, probably at an East Blue dojo by the top swordsman there. But he’d gotten lazy in the basic concept of controlled strength. 

Moving his knife up, Mihawk let the swordsman fall past him using his hand to chop him on the back of his neck. He had such high hopes for this spar, hopes that were slowly being crushed. 

The kid got back up again, going for another slash to his chest. 

Moving aside to let the kid fall again, he asked with genuine curiosity. “What do you bear on your shoulders? What do you desire once you’ve obtained power, weak one?”

Some of the gnats started buzzing again, leaping to go after him. At least they were until a boy in a red vest and a familiar-looking hat yelled and grabbed them, holding them back.

Interesting. Is that Shanks’ boy. The one he gives up his stupid arm for. Even after I fixed it for him. Idiot. 

“I can’t lose…” Mihawk’s attention turned back to his current opponent readying for a final attack. How pitiful. 

Deciding that he would see the boy’s resolve in the face of death, Mihawk thrust his knife into the green-heads chest, just shallow enough to not hit his heart.

“Are you just going to let me pierce your heart? Why aren’t you withdrawing?” Mihawk asked, waiting for the young swordsman to step back. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know why, but… If I withdrew even a step, I feel like those promises in the past will be shattered, and I won’t be able to come back to where I am now…”

“Yes, that’s what defeat is about.”

The green-haired swordsman chuckled. “Then, all the more reason I can’t withdraw.”

“Even if you die?” Mihawk challenged. 

“I’d rather die.”

His statement made Evans smile. This is what he looked for. This determination to do everything for your dream. To know that death was a better option than to back away. It was one of the things he had always valued in life. Maybe because he was never able to find a dream in his life. In his first century of life, he spent his entire time being ordered around by other people. And in the end, the people in charge were never good. People in positions of power are either corrupt or only willing to change things to their version of what’s right. But in the end, nothing is black and white. The world is just layers upon layers of grey which constantly shift depending on your position in life. The only ones he could trust were the dreamers. The dreamers who wanted nothing but their goal in life. Whether it be good or bad, they held no care for outside issues. And now, the disregard was something he had come to value more than anything. 

Looking at the determined face in front of him, Mihawk smiled. This was his new project. 

“Kid. State your name.” 

“Roronoa Zoro.”

Mihawk smiled. Roronoa would be his successor as World’s Strongest Swordsman. He thought this day would never come. 

Gripping Yoru’s hilt and brandishing it to the world, he said. “I’ll remember it. I haven’t seen anyone like you in a while, strong one. Thus, as a swordsman’s courtesy, I’ll sink you using the world’s strongest black sword.”

“I appreciate it.” The kid replied, readying himself for the final blow. 

Mihawk leapt forwards, cutting through the two lesser swords. 

The kid turned around, sheathing his remaining sword, Wado Ichimonji, and presented his chest. 

“What are you doing?” Mihawk asked in confusion. 

“Scars on the back are a swordsman’s shame.” He replied with a smile. 

Grinning, Mihawk spoke. “Admirable!” before leaving a large gash in the green head’s chest. If he was as strong-willed as he appeared. He would have no trouble surviving it. 

The kid fell back into the ocean, people screaming, a couple jumping in the try and save the kid. Turning to glance at the on-coming attack from Shanks’ brat, he sighed, leaning out of the way. So that’s were that devil fruit went. He swore he told Shanks to take care of it. As in sell it. Not let some idiot kid eat it. 

“Are you a that young swordsman’s comrade?” He asked the boy. “You also impressed me for watching it to the very end.” Especially since he was obviously as impulsive and dense as a certain redhead the both knew. “Don’t worry. I didn’t kill the man.”

The boy looked up, shocked and confused. “Zoro!” he yelled. Seeing that his swordsman was out of the water. 

Looking over at the ship where the boys had pulled his latest protégé, Mihawk stated in a loud voice. “It’s still too early for you to die. My name is Dracule Mihawk! Learn about yourself. Learn about the world. Become strong. No matter how many years it takes, I will hold the seat of the strongest and wait for you. Surpass this sword. Try to surpass me, Roronoa Zoro!”

Turning the face Shanks’ brat again, he asked. “Kid, what is your goal?” Of course, if it was Shanks’ brat, he already knew that answer, but just in case. 

“Pirate King!” he stated. 

“It’ll be even harder than surpassing me, you know?” Mihawk replied with a smirk. 

“How would I know if I haven’t done it yet?!” he replied sticking his tongue out. 

Yep. Definitely someone Shanks would choose as future Pirate King. Shanks better be glad that this kid had a good spirit and Evans agreed he’d be a good choice. 

A commotion came from Roronoa’s resting place, 

“L-Luffy.” The kid’s weak voice called. “Can you hear me? Did I worry you? You need no less than the world’s greatest swordsman, right? I will not be defeated ever again! Until the day I defeat him, I’ll never be defeated. Got any problems with that Pirate King?”

Shanks’ brat adopted the D grin with a laugh. “Nope!”

“You’re a good team.” Mihawk stated. “I want to see you guys again. So, don’t die.” He started walking away. 

Then another gnat started buzzing. Oh yeah, he had come here tracking down those idiots. He didn’t want to deal with that anymore. He had plans to make. People to impersonate. And other identities to be so that he could annoy people. 

“You’re annoying. I’ve had enough fun. I’m leaving.” Mihawk stated to the gnat. 

Then the gnat had the gall to shoot at him. Quickly deflecting the bullets, he jumped onto his ship and sent a slash into the water strong enough to send him flying across the ocean, back to the grand line. 

Evans sat back down into his chair, thinking about the kids he just met. Shanks’ brat was no doubt going to become a household name within less than a year. Then there was his new protégé to think about. How to teach him better swordsmanship, without him ever knowing. Hm. Maybe find some people along their route to impersonate. Teach him a new lesson with each battle. Yes. That could work.

But for now, he needed to find Shanks. That brat of his was interesting and he might just be willing to listen to his stories about the kid now.


	5. Shirley Temple 1

Evans was curled up against the wall of a dark alleyway in one of his favourite disguises. Shirley Temple. 

This particular alias was inspired by the old 1930s child actress from the movies his aunt would watch when the male Dursleys were out of the house. She always did say she would have liked a daughter and, of course, placed the blame of not being able to have one on her unnatural nephew. 

Dolled up in a frilly dress looking about 6 years old, Shirley’s face was pressed against her knees pretending to hide the imaginary tears running down her face. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to find a child who had lost their way in a market as busy as this one. And of course, it also wasn’t uncommon for the slave traders to be lurking around looking for unsuspecting children caught in this exact situation either. 

While Evans was never fully sure when it started, or why he felt so strongly about it, for as long as he could remember, Evans hated the idea of children being neglected or abused in any way. It made his blood boil like nothing else. And when the monsters who ran this world started to collect slaves, especially ones who were children, Evans had no problem creating a new character in his cast list to attack those who dared to lay their hands on children who, all things considered, were innocent. 

Don’t’ misunderstand. Evans had no problem with murder and gore. More than one of his multifaceted identities was an assassin. However, child murder was something he didn’t condone. Children have yet to learn the consequences of mistakes, or even know that they had made one in the first place. To kill, injury, or even neglect a child who is unaware of what was done wrong is immoral and proof that a percentage of the human race deserves a fate worse than death. One which Evans, and of course Shirley, are happy to administer. 

Shirley hid her smirk as a clean-shaven man in his mid-thirties approached her. 

“Little Miss? Are you okay?” He asked in a soothing voice. 

His name was Scotts Jugger, a long-time slave trader specializing in small children. One Shirley had been waiting for years to get her hands on. And for him to approach her personally and not just send one of his lackeys just made it all the sweeter. 

Peaking over the top of her knees, Shirley sniffed a couple of times and shook her head, golden curls bouncing along with the motion. 

“Did you lose your mommy in the crowd?” he asked with a sympathetic smile on his face.

What a bastard. 

Shirley nodded, whipping her eyes with the back of her hand looking up at the man. 

“Well, if you come with me, I’m sure we’ll find your mommy in no time!” 

Sniffling a couple of times for good measure, Shirley replied in a surprised tone. “Really mister? You’d do that for me?”

A cruel smirk lit up Jugger’s face as he nodded, reaching out a hand to the young girl. 

Shirley hesitantly took his hand, standing up. 

“Let’s find your mommy then, little girl.” 

Shirley nodded again, following the man out of the alley, whipping her face again to make sure she got rid of all the tears. 

The trip to ‘find Shirley’s mother’ continued for a while, going from stall to stall, asking if they’d seen the little girl’s fake mother. It wasn’t until about half an hour into the search that Jugger mentioned heading towards the dock.

“You know. She may have gone to check out the fish market! How about we head to the docks and look around there?” Jugger proposed to the small child. 

Shirley nodded shyly, trying to stop herself from gagging. No wonder he never got caught. He was a great actor. 

While they were strolling down the cobblestone path towards the dock, Shirley caught a glimpse of what she believed to be a well-known pirate. A Yonko even. One she had told to watch out for suspicious men matching Jugger’s description with young children by their side. One who seemed to have caught a glimpse of them as well. 

Shirley suppressed a sigh of agitation. The idiot redhead had a soft spot for children. That was made obvious when he gave up his arm for one of them. While he was in character as Dracule Mihawk, he may have mentioned to the idiot that he had caught the man with young children before and was forced to let them go as a dog of the world government. Looks like he was paying for his big mouth now. The idiot was going to ruin his whole plan.

Originally, Shirley had planned to infiltrate his ship and bring down him and all his connections. Now it looks like Shirley would have to be happy with just getting the ringleader of the operation. How annoying.

They were at the docks, approaching one of the first stalls at the fish market when Shirley caught a glimpse of the redhead again. The man had an angry glint in his eyes and looked about ready to pounce. 

“You know what? I think I have seen the little girl’s mother.” The stall vendors words interrupted Shirley’s chain of thought. “Why a mother came by just a few minutes ago and was completely beside herself, so I offered her a drink and some shade in the back. How about you come threw little lady and we’ll see if it’s your mommy?”

Shirley looked wide-eyed, put on a large hopeful smile, and pulled Jugger to come to find her ‘mother’ in the back. This must have been the man’s usual MO. Maybe she could at least knock down a few of Jugger’s men along with the man himself if she got to the back before the idiot Yonko blew her cover in a misguided attempt to save her. 

She was an assassin for a reason, god damn it. 

Or perhaps she should damn death. He was the one who sentenced her to this eternal madness. 

Another man was in the back, he had a bit more muscle than the man running the shop and was obviously there to catch her if she tried to run. 

“You must be that poor mother’s daughter. Come with me. She’s just in the galley on the ship. Billy took her in there for some snacks and water.” 

Shirley nodded, bouncing on her feet, looking eager to see her mother again. Or, rather, eager to have their blood on her hands. 

“Well, little miss. I should get going now that we’ve found your mother.” Jugger said with a knowing smile. 

“But, mister! I want you to meet mama. She’ll definitely wanna thank the kind person who helped me get back to her.” Leaving unsaid that Shirley really wanted to be the one to off the insipid tool that stood before her. 

The man easily gave in, not seeing what harm an extra minute in the brat’s presence could actually do him. She’d be locked up with the others any second now. 

The three made their way onto the boat and into the ship’s galley. 

Making sure to look around, Shirley asked. “I don’t see mama. Where’d she go?”

Jugger’s chuckled maliciously. “You didn’t actually think we had your ‘mama’ back here, did you?”

Shirley’s eyes grew wet with tears and boy did she appreciate her talent in acting. “But I thought-“

“Well, you thought wrong, little girl. And now you’ll go into the cells with the rest of the merchandise. We get paid a pretty penny for cute things like you. Maybe we’ll even give you one of those devil fruit powers. It’ll certainly make you worth so much more.”

Evans’ magic lashed out at the thought, and Shirley quickly reigned it back in, but it was too late. “My, is it possible that you already have a fruit? Johnny. Get the seastone cuffs. We’ve hit the jackpot with this one!”

Shirley gave a glare but let herself be held down and cuffed. If the redhead amputee would stay out of the way for a few more minutes, she may have a chance to free the rest of the children without any suspicion. The last thing she needed was the redhead being friendly with yet another one of her many disguises. 

“Now come right this way girly and-“

“I don’t think she will.” A calm voice interrupted Jugger. 

Jugger scoffed at the dark figure in the galley’s doorway. “And who do you think you are buddy? We don’t take kindly to good Samaritans on this ship.”

Hair shaded his eyes and a dark smirk crossed the man’s face. “I’m no good Samaritan. I’m a pirate. And as a pirate, I believe all people who want to live free, should. That is the way of the sea. And that is the life of a pirate.”

Jugger scoffed at the redhead and continued to point his gun at the man. “I don’t care what kind of mumbo jumbo you idiot pirates believe. I know that this kid is going to make me a fortune and you’re not going to get in the way of it.”

Cocking his gun, Jugger shot the man. 

Shanks didn’t even flinch as the bullet bounced off his Haki coated chest. 

“I won’t move until you hand over the child,” Shanks said, brandishing his sword. 

Jugger scoffed, but Shirley could tell he was sweating to find a way out of this mess.

Deciding she’d had enough of the dick measuring contest, Shirley twisted in the man’s arms and quickly severed the man’s head from his body. 

Sliding her wrists out of the cuffs, she turned to the idiot redhead who ruined her original mission. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

The redhead's jaw audibly clicked as it slammed shut. The poor Yonko didn’t know what to think. 

“Captain. I thought I told you not to get into trouble on this island. We’re meant to be avoiding the marines-“

Benn Beckman came to a stop at the doorway his captain was still blocking. 

“Look. I’m going to gather some intel from this ship, get the rest of the kids out, and then be on my merry way.” Shirley stated, voice filled with sass. “You do what you want, pirate, but stay out of my way.”

Shanks continued to stare at the small girl for a moment before running over to her. “But- I thought- you look like- How old are you?” he finally settled on a question. 

Shirley scoffed. “Way older than you think. The name’s Shirley Temple. I go around making sure guys like Jugger and his posy get what’s coming to them. No kid deserves to be enslaved.”

Shanks nodded blankly. 

Benn, who was still standing behind Shanks, moved to pull the man out of the way as the deceptively young-looking lady made her way towards the door. 

“But- but- but- but,” Shanks stammered, breaking out of his frozen stupor. “you look like your six!” Shanks exclaimed moving to follow Shirley out of the room. 

“This is the Grand Line. Weirder things have happened.” Shirley replied blandly as she made her way towards were cells usually were on a ship. It was a typical caravel layout. Nothing she hadn’t seen before. Quite common in this type of work. 

Shanks continued to follow he deeper into the ship like a lost puppy.

Picking up two sets of keys that were hanging on the walls by the entrance to where all the cells were, Shirley tossed a set to the red-headed captain and motioned towards the cells. “Help me, will you?”

Shanks nodded blankly and started unlocking cells that held small children and helped them all up to the galley following Shirley’s orders. 

Shirley left the galley momentarily, only to return with a handful of folders containing, what Shanks assumed to be, information on the other slave trading ships affiliated with this one. 

“So pirates.” Shirley addressed the Yonko and his first mate. “What’s your plan now?”

Shanks looked at the young kids who were huddled up in blankets with warm drinks. Some of them had come from this island, others had come from other islands around the grand line. “I think I might go on a mini-vacation around Paradise and drop off a few of these kids at their rightful homes.”

Shirley nodded, hiding a smile at the man’s words. While she hated dealing with the puppy that was Shanks, she appreciated the man’s devotion towards protecting children. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll trust you to take care of these kids while I use the intel they had on other slave ships to catch a few more of these suckers. You pirates seem like the okay type.” Shirley said, turning to leave the ship. 

The pirates made confused sounds as she walked away, acting upset to be stuck taking care of the kids. 

Shirley grinned, turning to face the pirates once more, “But if you ever see me again while I’m on one of these missions, leave me the fuck alone, I have a job to do and don’t need you idiots interfering. If you do, well, you won’t like the consequences.” Her grin turned deadly as her eyes developed an evil glint to them.

Shanks and his crewmates paled as the little girl disappeared without a trace.


End file.
